


The Gods of Misfortune Must Be Laughing Right Now

by notaverse



Category: Johnny's Entertainment, KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, uke!Jin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-01
Updated: 2011-10-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 05:39:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/259609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notaverse/pseuds/notaverse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"NO SMILE!" Kame deliberately makes Jin lose his smile on Cartoon KAT-TUN, but that's only the start of Jin's bad luck.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Gods of Misfortune Must Be Laughing Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> **Title:** The Gods of Misfortune Must Be Laughing Right Now  
>  **Fandom:** KAT-TUN  
>  **Pairing:** Kame x Jin  
>  **Rating:** R  
>  **Genre:** I confess: it's pretty much a PWP  
>  **Disclaimer:** I don't own any of them, dammit.

It's all Kame's fault, and Jin intends to kill him just as soon as the restraints are undone. Providing, of course, that he survives his first - and hopefully his last - session of torture at the hands of Tickling Guan Yin.

It's their fourth shoot for the segment, and this time the "Smile Athletes" have to juggle...while jumping a rope, which is being twirled by two of the other KAT-TUN members. Jin knew he should have protested when Kame volunteered to hold the rope for him - the younger man's grin promised mischief in spades - and he thought he'd be lucky to manage three jumps, never mind Taguchi's ten.

As it turned out, he didn't even manage two. He made the mistake of facing Kame as he jumped, and that was the end of it. Kame mouthed something that looked suspiciously like "You're a lousy kisser" at him, and Jin's bright, charming smile faltered just long enough for the voice from above to thunder "NO SMILE!". To add insult to injury, he dropped all three juggling balls, one of which landed on his head. Had he thought about it, he'd have thrown it at Kame.

But he didn't, and now he's going to suffer for it. Jin tries to keep calm while Kensuke picks him up and straps him in; Koki assists, far too gleeful about the whole situation. He knows he could tear the restraints if he really wanted to, but the material feels like chains around his wrists and ankles and if he moves, they'll only strap him back up anyway. Better to grin and bear it. The only other alternative is to throw a tantrum and refuse to go through with it, ensuring they'll have to reshoot the event so he never loses his smile. Then everyone will be cross with him, and Jin's been trying very hard to slot back in to the group since his return from LA.

It isn't that he objects to looking ridiculous on television - those feelings can't exist in his line of work. It isn't even that he objects to losing the contest, although it wasn't technically his fault.

What Jin strenuously objects to is: being tickled. Worse still: being tickled from behind by people he can't see. Glittering gold hands clutching and clawing at him, making him squirm.

At least it won't be for long. Jin closes his eyes in anticipation, trying to look serene and convince everybody that he's perfectly at peace instead of waiting for an axe to fall on him. He hears Nakamaru make some crack about him falling asleep; Kame's laughing already and Jin swears it's going to be as painful a death as he can manage.

The torture session starts. Jin utters a soft gasp as the first spidery digits crawl down his ribs, flinches and twists away from the hand that fumbles near his collarbone, biting down on his lower lip to keep himself from crying out when the fingers get too close for comfort to that sensitive spot. If he screams now the other guys will never let him live it down.

Other hands roam freely up and down his legs, occasionally bordering on intimacies not really suitable for their target audience, and despite his annoyance with Kame Jin wishes he could pretend that it was Kame's fingers teasing him through his clothes.

But that would involve imagining Kame as a gold, six-armed god, and since Kame most certainly does not have more than two arms, Jin's not sure his brain could handle that mental image. Not without looking at Kame strangely forever after.

It doesn't _hurt_ , exactly. Not in the way that one of Ueda's punches hurts, or even the way a rope burn hurts. It feels like three bakers are using his body to make bread, kneading his flesh into shape with thick, heavy strokes. Or perhaps they are baking him into a cake, and the lighter, skimming motions are sprinkling a fine coat of icing sugar on the top.

The combined efforts of six hands turn his muscles to water and he contracts, curling in on himself as much as the restraints will allow. There isn't much slack - hasn't been since the time Koki accidentally tore himself free - and there's nowhere to go to escape the bold, inquisitive fingers.

When they finally let him go, Jin's eyes stay closed till he has to move. He's supposed to walk away, make some kind of comment about the importance of smiling, and turn bright eyes to the camera. Things don't happen quite like that.

He holds himself still while the restraints are undone, because if he yanks his limbs free it'll look bad, but he won't look at Kame afterwards and he keeps as far from him as possible, walking slowly across the studio floor in what looks like a effort to maintain his dignity but is actually an attempt to disguise the unsteadiness in his step. He flashes his best artificial smile at the camera and sits down before he falls down.

Jin's pretty sure his resentment is written all over his face. He hasn't bitten through his lip - not quite - and he's sort of proud that he's managed to stay both silent and straight-faced through the whole ordeal. It doesn't help, though. There's no other way to look at it: Kame set him up.

Later, when they're changing to leave, Kame beckons him aside. Jin feels tired and bitter, in no mood to be sociable, and all he really wants to do is go home and stop pretending for the cameras. When Jin smiles for real, everyone knows he's happy, but when he's upset it's difficult for him to keep up with the others.

Nevertheless, he accepts Kame's invitation. They wait till the other members have finished and the room is empty, and Jin decides that this is as good a time as any to vent his anger.

He doesn't get the chance. Kame surprises him by apologising before he can even work up the energy for a good argument, and he looks like he means it.

"If you're so sorry," Jin sulks, "then why'd you do it in the first place? Didn't want me to win again? Because it's not like I was in with a chance today anyway, so you might as well not have bothered."

Kame shakes his head. "I wanted to see what would happen if you lost your smile." Jin frowns to indicate that yes, his smile is well and truly lost and Kame clarifies with, "I mean, it was your turn to get tickled. I wanted to watch."

"You're sadistic."

"But you already knew that," Kame points out, then backs Jin against the door so no one can walk in on them before he kisses him hungrily, pressing hard on Jin's bruised lip.

Jin yelps in pain and jerks backwards, accidentally hitting his head on the door, and Kame doubles over with laughter the way he frequently does around some of their more entertaining guests.

"It's not funny!" Jin protests, but he starts to laugh too. The two of them sink down to the floor in the midst of a giggling fit so juvenile that even the Juniors wouldn't be caught dead participating, and Kame wraps an arm round Jin's shoulders to draw him as near as he can get without actually pulling the heavier man into his lap.

"I still don't think it's funny," Jin says breathlessly, though his expression belies this. "And I am *not* a bad kisser! I get enough practice with you, don't I?"

"Well..." Kame pretends to ponder, but Jin bats him over the head with his flapping sleeve. "You're a bad *screen* kisser, but as you and I are never going to be kissing each other for the cameras, I don't think that's important."

"Not unless we move into the adult entertainment industry," Jin agrees, and that starts them both laughing again.

When Kame gets back enough breath to speak, he says, "Are you still mad at me?"

Jin sighs. The atmosphere has gone from tense to comfortable and right back to tense again, thanks to Kame's question. "Not really," he admits, "but if you do it again I'm going to set Ryo-chan on you."

Kame pretends to be scared, clutching himself in horror. "I don't need to do it again now that I know what you look like with someone else's hands all over you."

"Annoyed?"

"Miserable." Kame's fingers brush lightly over Jin's shoulder, gentler by far than Tickling Guan Yin and considerably more welcome.

"And that makes you happy?"

"No, silly." Kame pecks him on the cheek and grins. "You should only be content when it's *my* hands on your body...and that makes me very happy indeed."

Jin snorts. "And people call *me* an idiot. You're the one doing all the dumb things!"

Kame kisses him again, softly this time, mindful of Jin's bruised lip and the hard wood of the door behind them - hardly the most comfortable of resting places. The kiss becomes a caress; balm on a sore. "Still think I'm doing dumb things?" Kame murmurs.

"Yeah." Jin indicates their surroundings. "We're in a dressing room, Kame. A dressing room where other people will, at some point, want to be. And we're on the floor, which, I might add, is freezing!"

"If I say something about warming you up with my body, you're going to laugh at me, aren't you?"

"Every chance I get."

"Then," Kame says, "I won't bother to say it at all."

True to his word, the innuendo never passes his lips, and he remains silent as he nudges Jin out of the way and pulls the small couch across the door. He eventually responds to Jin's questioning gaze with, "We're the last group filming tonight; no one will be by until security comes round in a couple of hours to lock up, and I can't wait."

"Hey," Jin protests, "just because I look like a playboy doesn't mean you can...uh...mmm...what was I saying?"

Kame removes his mouth from Jin's throat long enough to reply, "Does it matter?"

"Probably not."

Not being covered with gold paint, Kame's hands are of a much nicer texture than the tickling god's, and Jin doesn't object when they slide under his shirt. Kame may not be a god, televised or otherwise, but his touch is divine, and Jin throws his head back against the cushion when he feels the brush of fingers undoing his jeans.

"Careful," Kame warns, amused. "The couch isn't *that* well-padded and if you knock yourself out I'm never going to forgive you."

"You're the one who shouldn't be forgiven," Jin snipes back, but he reaches for Kame's belt anyway and makes short work of it, tossing it casually across the room and hoping it doesn't occur to Kame to use it on his wrists. Once was enough.

Thankfully, Kame doesn't look to see where it lands. He's too busy working his way down Jin's ribcage with his fingers, while his mouth remains happy where it is, warm and wet around one nipple. His tongue swirls in slow, deliberate circles; his teeth barely graze the skin, rough pin-pricks of stimulation in places where every sensation is magnified.

Jin moans encouragement, because that's all he can do. Kame has him pinioned, entrapping Jin's legs with his own, and he only needs to lean forward a little to bring their hips into contact. When he does, Jin lunges for him and grabs him before he can get away again - not that he'd ever dream of doing so. A moment's fumbling at Kame's waist has him out and hard against Jin's skin where clumsy tugs at his clothes have left him partially exposed. It's a jolt for both of them to feel it, lightning under the surface, warmth and want and an ache that desperately needs soothing.

Jin thrusts upwards; Kame's hips meet his in an answer even as one hand finds Jin's and twines their fingers together against the bright red cushions, pressing down into the material. Something scrapes at Jin's lower back and he shifts left, rolling Kame with him. Kame's free hand separates them only to reach down between Jin's legs, and then that same something catches Jin's back again.

"Kame, wait," he says in a pained voice, trying to sit up and failing. "I'm uncomfortable."

Kame's expression switches in an instant from all-out lust to heartbreaking tenderness. "Do you want me to stop?" he asks, moving his hand to the more innocuous location of Jin's knee.

"Huh?" Surprised, Jin pushes Kame aside and sits up, rubbing the sore patch on his back. "No, I mean I'm really uncomfortable."

"And it's okay, I understand," Kame says soothingly, though he doesn't sound totally convincing. Desire isn't so easy to discard in a heartbeat, after all. "If you want to stop, we'll stop. Just say the word."

Jin says a word, though not the one Kame is expecting. "Spring!" he exclaims triumphantly after a moment of scrabbling around on the couch.

It's Kame's turn to look surprised. "Spring?"

Jin points to the slightly-bent metal coil poking through the fabric, and tries to remember when he last had a tetanus shot. "Is my back bleeding?"

Kame checks; it isn't. There is, however, a nasty red scrape along the skin.

"It's not fair," Jin complains. "So far today I've been tickled half-to-death, nearly knocked out by a door and attacked by a vicious spring!" He appreciates that he may be overstating the case somewhat, but reason and righteous indignation have very little to do with each other. "And what have I got to show for it?"

"Well," Kame says, folding his shirt into a pillow sufficient to protect Jin's back from the "vicious spring" as a not-so-subtle hint that the other man might like to get back to business, "if you give me a chance to finish..."

Kame's shirt is still warm from his body heat, and Jin appreciates the soft, worn material against his skin far more than the scratch of cold metal. He's reluctant to actually remove any clothing, though - there's no telling how many springs may be lurking near the surface, just waiting to pop up and attack his bare flesh. Kame finds this amusing, but the only injury *he's* suffered today is losing a few strands of hair when the elastic refused to relinquish his short ponytail, and that isn't even in the same league.

Comfortable now, Jin relaxes into Kame's touch, ignoring the alarming creaking sounds coming from the couch. (If it breaks, Jin decides, let Kame be the one to have to explain it to the studio. *He's* had enough stress for one day.) Kame leans down and edges to the side so he can take both of them in hand, and Jin offers a helping hand of his own, enveloping Kame's fingers in his.

"Did Tickling Guan Yin touch you _here_?" Kame teases.

Jin shudders at the thought, sending a pleasant ripple through his body. "Probably," he replies, words emitting in short, breathless bursts. "You'll have to watch the footage if you really want to know."

Kame's breath hitches as Jin's thumbnail traces a line down his length. "Not that badly."

"Watching it live is okay, but watching the recording afterwards is too sadistic even for you?" Jin's tongue darts out to lick enticingly at his lower lip.

"No, just boring." Kame's hands work faster now, and Jin feels he's getting close. "I found out what I wanted to know, so why would I waste my time watching somebody else touch you," Kame's voice drops to a sultry whisper, "when I can do it so easily myself?"

It's enough to take Jin over the edge, hips moving involuntarily as his seed spills over their joined hands, shortly accompanied by Kame's. Kame kisses him when he comes, muffling their cries, and Jin feels Kame moan into his mouth.

"There," Kame says raggedly as he pulls out a fistful of tissues and begins to clean them up, "you feel better now you've got something to show for your bad day?"

Jin does, until he stands up and takes a look at the couch. Half a dozen more springs have been exposed, some of them in awkward locations, and he wonders if Koki's sewing skills extend to recovering couch cushions. "I think this couch has it in for me!"

"Along with the door - not to mention the floor, since it dared to be cold while you were sitting on it. Oh, and I think Ueda's upset that you nearly tripped him up with the rope when it was his turn to skip. Plus..."

As Kame reels off a long list of people - and the occasional inanimate object - that might forseeably have a grudge against Jin, Jin moves the couch back to its original location and tries the door handle.

It won't budge.

He tries it again. "Uh...Kame?" he interrupts. "I think we're locked in. And there's no reception in here so we can't phone for help!"

Kame frowns and checks his watch. "They don't usually lock up this early," he says, "and the lights are still on."

Just as he ends his sentence, the lights go out, plunging them into darkness. The only thing that could make Jin's day even worse is seeing a ghost, but he thinks that if there is any justice in this world, he will have used up his quota of bad luck for the day.

"Look on the bright side," Kame says philosophically, ignoring the fact that in the dark there *is* no bright side and even if there was, he couldn't have seen it. "We've got snacks, we've got water, and we've got a bathroom. No windows, but we have to find the light switch sooner or later, right?"

Given the way the rest of his day has been going, Jin suspects he'll find it *later*, and probably by walking right into it. "You look. If I do it, I'm going to trip and break my nose or something."

"Your nose, and the hearts of thousands of fangirls," Kame cracks, but Jin hears him moving around near the door. A moment later, the light flickers back to life.

"There!" Kame says brightly.

Despite his misgivings, Jin smiles back, thinking that if he ever gets trapped on a desert island, he'd pick Kame to be marooned with him. The younger man is a born survivor - not to mention, a workaholic - and it's difficult not to be caught up in his enthusiasm for getting things done.

That's when the fire alarm begins to ring.


End file.
